


Some Things Never Change

by Boneheart



Category: South Park
Genre: Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorders, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 12:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6805120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boneheart/pseuds/Boneheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am fatass, just fatass. At this point being called Cartman would be a blessing. Somehow, fatass just makes me less of a human & more of an object, but maybe I am just an object.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. South Park belongs to Trey Parker & Matt Stone. Thus is purely a fanfiction(a shitty one at that)
> 
> Author's Note: First chapters almost always suck, mine is no exception.
> 
> Warnings: This story deals with depression, bulmia, homosexuality, & possible rape.

I am fatass, just fatass. At this point being called Cartman would be a blessing. Somehow, fatass just makes me less of a human & more of an object, but maybe I am just an object.

I don't know exactly when it started, but as everyone grew up people took less & less of my bullshit. Until finally I became nothing to them. I had tried to change, I really had, but any time I tried doing something good people thought it was a scam. It was to late, I had done to much.

By eighth grade not even Butters would hang around me, not that I blamed him. Out of everyone I'd treated him the worst next to Kyle.

Ah Kyle...Over the years I've accepted that I have an interest in males. The ironic part? I wanted Kyle more than anything. That's right, I'm in love with the enemy, the person who hates me more than anyone... Kyle Broflovski.

He'd never fall for me, not after everything I've done, never mind how ugly I am. When high-school started Kyle & the rest if my former group had became the popular crowd, along with Craig's posse & the cheerleaders...go figure.

Kyle had not only joined track, but became the best basketball player in the entire school. His lean muscles & tall 6'2 height had done wonders for him. Like everbody else he'd grown out of his hat & orange coat. You'd almost always see him in either his sports uniforms or a dark green hoody.

Stan still dated that slut Wendy off & on. He also ended up as quarterback, like no one saw that coming. You'd normally see him in football gear or jeans & blue sweatshirt. He stood an inch above Kyle at an intimidating 6'3.

Then there was Kenny, when he wasn't getting high out if his mind & spreading his seed he does manage to pull C's & B's as far as grades go. Not much can be said about him, 5'10 & the school's sex god in an orange hood, although it stays down most of the time. Pretty much it.

Last of all was me. Aside from being 280 pounds of pure, disgusting body fat & standing at a pitiful 5'6 I had become the complete opposite of the childhood me. I no longer was the loud, bigoted Nazi everyone knew & hated. I wore a simple grey hoody with greasy food stains & grey sweats to match. No point dressing to impress if every hates you right?

I had went from the bully to the bullied curtsy of Craig Tucker & his followers. Even when my conscious had caught up to me he continues to terrorize me, I swear the fucker gets off on it.

This was exactly why I dreaded starting junior year. It was the first day & already I wanted to go home. Damn the school, fucking lockers are organized abc order by last name like always. This wouldn't be such a bad thing if it weren't for the fact that Broflovski & Cartman were so close name wise.

Kyle was already at his locker, leaning on it like he was waiting for something. "Perfect...", I had to get to mine. I dragged myself to my locker, head down trying to avoid eye contact. I could feel him staring at me as I yanked my locker open & quickly shoved my books in. I slammed my locker shut & quickly headed for class. I couldn't handle the staring, I was afraid he'd say something, rightly so.

"Can't even dress yourself fatass?"

I stopped in my tracks, hands opening & closing. The words...they were far from the worst things said to me, but still cut like a knife. I opened my mouth to say something then closed it again. There was no point in getting my ass kicked by Kyle, Craig does that enough.

I walked away without replying, something told me this year would be worse than others.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own South Park or these Characters

I trudge down the street coffee in hand. My shoes soaking in the slushy snow. I'm not exactly eager to get home, but it's far better then that shit hole of a school.

The day had been...better than expected. I managed not to get my ass kicked my Craig so that's always a good thing.

Kyle bothered me though, every class we shared he'd just stare with that unreadable expression. It made me uneasy.

I continue to brood in my thoughts. Not noticing the car speed by until I'm soaked. Making me drop my coffee in shock.

"Asshole!" I yell, but the cars long gone.

I sigh & continue to walk home. Stupid assshole needs to learn how to drive. As I walk up to my house I notice moms car is gone.

'Good, I didn't feel like dealing with her anyways. ' I tell myself

I enter my house & head for the kitchen, not bothering to turn the lights on. I immediately jerk the fridge open & pull out 5 or 9 slices of left over pizza.

I sigh,"food is comfort. At least it loves me..."

'It can't love you. It's an inanimate object you fat prick.' A little voice in my head whispers.

Just as quickly I frown, looking at the pizza with disgust. Immediately I dump it into the trashcan I'm not hungry anymore. Instead I vouche for the sweet release of gin & weed.

"Time to get shit faced..." I tell myself as I head for my moms room.

It's not a habit I indulge in often, really, it isn't. However occasionally I like to get plastered enough to forget my own name.

I take a bag of weed, her pipe, & the Gin from the top shelf of her closet. I should really consider getting my own supply, but I don't do this often enough for it to matter.

Once I'm safely in my room & on my bed I crack open the Gin & take 5 big gulps. It taste like shit & I would rather spit it out, but it does it's job well.

I take some weed from the bag & place it in the pipe, grabbing my lighter, I put the pipe up to my lips & light. Breathing in my sweet release. Gin & weed. My favorite mix.

The high hits me a few inhales later, the gin also doing it's job. My brain slows down. It feels as if my bodies vibrating. I turn on Terrence & Philip, giggling like a maniac at every seemingly funny thing.

An episode later I realize something else has hit me: the munchies. I head downstairs & open the fridge. I see the four things of Yoplait yogurt, grab it, get a spoon, & head back upstairs.

I'm halfway up the stairs when I hear a knock on the door. Shit it's the cops. I try to look as sober as possible when I open the door.

It's not the cops though, it's Craig. That can be just as bad though. The high me less afraid, but at the same time I feel panic.

'What the hell is he doing here?'

"What I can't see my favorite little punching bag?",Oh shit, guess I said that out loud, " I smell weed. You getting high?" Craig says as he barges right into my house.

"No, really come right the fuck in." I mumble

"What was that tubby? "

"Nothing, nothing. So why are you here?"

"Didn't catch you at school. Was gonna beat your ass, but might as well get high then do that. " the asshole is smirking

At any other time I would've offered him whatever he wanted just so he'd leave me alone. Right now however, my mouth was moving faster than I could comprehend danger.

"Fuck off."

"Excuse me?" He was angry, good.

"I said fuck off, it's my weed, it's my alcohol, & this is my house god da–!"

Suddenly my back collides with the wall & I'm held inches off the ground by my shirt collar. Craig's furious blue orbs glaring at me.

"You must be high out of your god damn mind!" Each word is punctuated with a slam into the wall.

My mouth fills with saliva & I spit right in his fucking eye. Part of me knows I'll regret it, but the other half doesn't care. The shock on his face is hysterical.

"You're going to regret that," he seethes, hands wrapping around my throat," I promise. "

I struggle, trying to remove his hands so I can breathe in that precious treasure called oxygen.

'Fuck he's really gonna kill me...'

My visions going fuzzy & I feel myself going lax. I close my eyes waiting for deaths greeting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Ok boring, fast paced, but I updated right? I'm very glad that you all appear to like chapter one! Hope two was satisfying!


	3. Chapter 3:

"H..? ..opsi..ns? ..ke up." 

Someone's speaking, but I'm only hearing bits & pieces. My fingers lightly touch the carpet while I try figuring out exactly where I am. 

'Wait, carpet?' My eyes slowly blink open. Once. Twice. Three times. 

"Poopsikins you're awake!" 

"Ugh...." 

It takes all the energy I can muster just to sit up. I skim my body & find every inch of visible skin covered in bruises & scrapes. There's a chunk of glass in the middle of my right arm. Blood's sluggishly oozing out of the wound.

I try to process the chaos that my living room was as everything comes back to me. 

I remember spitting on Craig, him choking me, then right as I began to pass out he let me breath. I guess I must've kicked the table moms vase was on. It explains the glass.

I got cut when he tossed me to the ground & began to beat me. After awhile I must've passed out.

***

Beep. Beep. Be–

"Fuck."

I hiss out. It's damn near impossible for me to move let alone get out of bed. The bruises had gotten bigger over night, more tender to. Craig really did a number on me this time. 

Moms already gone to "work." Normally she wouldn't start so early, but my guess is she's getting close to a client again. It's beyond me why anyone would willing date a prostitute. 

I drag myself out of bed, put my gray hoodie on & head for the bus stop. I wore my clothes to bed & frankly it just hurt to much to bother changing. 

Stan & his pack were already there. They were discussing some type of party happening on Saturday. 

Awkwardly I stand a good five feet away from them, eyes downcast like usual. I could feel their eyes burning into me as their voices turned into inaudible whispers.

I heard the snow crunch as one of them walked towards me. I shrank into myself when their shadow blocked what little sunlight there was.

Upon glancing up I realized it was Kyle. He was scanning my body with emotionless eyes & I couldn't help, but feel more self-conscious. Maybe I should've changed clothing after all.

Just as Kyle began to speak the bus pulled up & cut him off. He awkwardly stood in front of me for a moment, eyes roaming over my body. Shaking his head he retreated to the bus. 

I hop on the bus after him & rush to the back as fast as my stubby legs will carry me. Awkwardly bumping into people's seats, followed by their snickers & sneers. I plop down into a window seat in the very back, alone like always. 

Now that I wasn't so focused on Kyle's staring I had time to feel just how much damage Craig had done. Yesterday I had painkillers to deal with the throbbing pain. Now I don't. 

I use my phone's camera as a mirror. The bruises are still raw & tender, blackening my left eye, leaving finger shaped prints on what was showing of my neck, & even some light ones on parts of my hands. 

"No wonder they were staring....I'm a wreck." 

***

Ugh math. The subject I hate the most, besides gym of course. They're both a pain in the ass, but I guess if it's mental pain vs physical pain I'd go for the first. 

I fidget in my seat, grumbling. I'm really starting to hurt, not to mention they're starting to swell.

"If this keeps up I'll be a blueberry by the end of the day..." 

"Well you can go be a blueberry in the principal's office if you keep disrupting my class Mr.Cartman." 

My shoulders hunch & my face flushes in embarrassment as my classmates begin to snicker. 

"Sorry Ms. Tila... "

"Hmph" 

'Stupid teachers always gotta get on my case' 

I brood for the rest of the lesson. As soon as the bell rings I'm out the door. I'm practically running to my second class when I crash into something & hit the floor.

"Fucking bitch! What the he–" 

I cut myself off as soon as I meet Craig's angry gaze. Gulping as I see his coffee covered, previously white, shirt.

"I m-mean....hi Craig." 

"One reason why I shouldn't rearrange your face." 

"I–um I-i didn't–I wasn't–I didn't s-see you." 

My voice takes on a high pitched, squeaky quality while I think up an excuse. 

"Shut. Up."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: I feel like a complete asshole for being on hiatus for so long. I'll try to keep updates going, but no promises. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own South Park

I lay in bed, face wet with tears. My body, fuck it hurts so bad. Why'd Craig have to hit so hard? Maybe had I not been a devil child, karma would've been more forgiving. I look back on my childhood memories in disgust. 

All the times I fucked with Butters, or sat on my ass eating Cheesypoofs; I'd been such an arrogant asshole and now I'm reaping what I sow. 

But... at least back then I had a fucking spine. Sure I was cold and often times unfeeling, but I still had a spine god damn it. Fuck, I had a life... I had friends. Am I really more pathetic now, than I was back then? 

"Hehe yep" I scoff

There I go again, confirming my own insecurities. I'm a fucking crazy, mean spirited prick and everyone knows it, well knew it. 

Now I'm just a crazy, self-loathing bitch. 

I shudder in surprise when I hear three  
loud knocks on the door. 

"Poopsikins, dinners ready~" 

"Not hungry mom!" 

"O-oh... Ok honey, that's alright. " 

She's hurt, dinner was the only real time we got together. But I don't care, I'm too fat for dinner. I don't deserve it. 

With that thought in mind I fall into a deep, disturbed sleep. 

***

I'm running through the forest, sweat dripping down my forehead. I'm being chased! I'm being fucking chased by something, no someone, and they're fucking catching up! 

"Shit. Fuck. Shit! Leave me alone!" I cry out

I look back and see the glint of a knife, he's hooded, I can't see his face. But the knife, the knife I see. 

God damn it move faster. Oh god I can practically feel his breath on my neck. No, it is on my neck! 

Just like that I feel myself being snatched up and scream. He let's go of me just long enough to shove me into the snow and climb on top of my chest. 

"You fuc–"

His hands, they're on my throat. He's strangling me; I can't breath. I grab his wrists, trying to pull him off to no avail. 

I can feel my face reddening with lack of oxygen. I claw at him more desperately, heart pounding in my ears. But it's too late, I can feel my awareness slipping, my pulse slowing as darkness consumes me. 

***

"Jesus fuck... Just a dream." I breath raggedly

7 am. I'll be late for skewl even if I rush, may as well ditch. I hate skewl anyways, hate seeing Kyle, Craig,.. everyone. They all make me feel so stupid, wait not feel, I AM stupid. End of story. 

I got dressed and headed for Starks Pond. I wasn't exactly sure why I headed there. Clarity? Relief? Who knows. 

I dusted some snow off a log and sat down. Normally this isn't necessary, but it snowed pretty hard last night. It wasn't comfortable, but it'd do, for now anyways. 

I didn't find clarity or relief, but I knew how I could. I knew what'd bring me instant gratification, my secret weapon. 

Reaching into my pocket I feel for the small, white container I knew would be there. It's contents would bring me just a moment of bittersweet bliss. 

Just as I'm about to open it I hear a crunch, causing me to freeze up. Who the hell is here? No one's ever here this early. I shove the square container back into my pocket and turn around to be confronted with the giant that is Jewboy. 

"Hey, Cartman, what're you doing out here? "

"None of your god damn business, could ask you the same thing. " I mumble, temper flaring 

Kyle sits next to me, irritation clear. Bastard. Why can't he just leavs me alone. Why now of all times? 

"Listen," Kyle started," lately I've noticed some changes. You've been–"

"Oh look at the Jew, getting in everyone's business! Nosy as ever Kyle!" I stand," If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a girl with all the bitching you do, fucking ki–Ow what the fuck Kyle?!"

He hit me, be actually fucking hit me. I send him a teary-eyed glare, rubbing my cheek. 

"Listen here, Cartman, " he's shaking with anger, fist balled, " you deserved that. The second anyone's kind to you, you lash out. I'm sick of it. "

I look down, he continues his rant. 

"Where do you get the balls to talk down to me? I'm a girl, huh? " he grabs my chin, forcing me to make eye contact. 

"Then what are you? A boy? A man? Neither. "

"I'm–" he cuts me off

"A fat, unintimidating loser. I don't know why I came, but I regret it. " 

He begins walking away, I don't know why, but I can't let him go. I grab his sleeve. 

"Kyle wait.. " I look up at him, jesus he's tall, I must look like a child compared to him. 

"What?" 

"I... um.. " oh god, what do I say?, " I.. never mind. Just fuck off! "

I turn around and quickly run into the woods. That was fucking humiliating. I should've just let him go, now I look like a jackass. 

Fuck you Kyle, always gotta make me clam up. You're just as bad as Craig. 

It begins to snow. I turn back, having been running around the woods aimlessly for probably 30 minutes now. 

But I freeze, there's the distinct sound of a twig snapping. My dream comes back to me and I shake, ready to run. I shriek and jump back when a doe shoots across my path. 

"Jesus fuck...You fucking asshole, I'll make fucking jerky out of you! " it's long gone, but the threat still stands. 

Craig's POV 

The fucker doesn't even realize he's being watched, but maybe he would've if that dumb doe hadn't gotten spooked. 

He stumbles back towards Starks Pond. Must be heading home. His mother would be gone by now. Sluts gotta get bills paid right? 

I chuckle, a wicked grin spreading across my normally emotionless face. 

"Perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: Surprise, I'm still in a South Park mood, although I have been editing Save Me (Inuyasha fanfic). This story's been bugging me for awhile so I finally decided to at least start it. So what do you think? Should I continue or has everyone officially given up on Cartman based fanfics? The characters are about 16 or 17 in this.


End file.
